


The Trials and Tribulations of the Fushimi-Yata Wedding

by Insomnia_Productions



Series: Trials & Tribulations [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Chaos, M/M, Wedding, misaki and Saru have no control over their own wedding, munakata wants to walk saru down the aisle, sarumi are done with this shit, the clans literally take over everything, yukari is a part-time wedding planner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_Productions/pseuds/Insomnia_Productions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fourteen chapters and several months of fluff, angst, and comedy, Saruhiko and Misaki are finally getting married! </p><p>They've survived the Colorless King, JUNGLE, each other, and their own inner demons.<br/>Now, if only they can cope with their interfering Clans...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Colleague Interference

 

Every head in HOMRA looks up when the doors burst open and Misaki rushes in. 

“ _ Guysyouwontevenbelievewhathappenedlastnightandnochitoseitwasntthatitwassososomuchbetteridontevenknowwheretobeginimsoexcited _ —mmf!” He cuts off abruptly when Eric clamps a hand over his mouth. He leaves it there for a moment, and then lowers his hand. 

“Repeat that.  _ Slowly _ .” 

Misaki takes a few rapid gulps of air. “Right. Right, yeah, slowly. Sorry.” Another, deeper breath. “ _ Saruhiko proposed to me _ .” His voice pitches up towards the end, and he feels his face heating up as he slowly lifts up his left hand and holds it out. “See?” 

All things are set aside as the Reds gather around him to  _ ooh  _ and  _ ahh  _ over the glinting ring. And then the ball drops. 

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!” 

 

.

 

The moment Saruhiko walks into his office, he’s attacked by the rest of the Alphabet Squad, who flock around him like pigeons to old ladies at the park, screeching and cawing. 

“Fushimi-san, did you ask him?” 

“Fushimi-san, how did it go?” 

“Fushimi-san, what did he say?” 

“Don’t any of you have work to do?” Saruhiko grumbles. 

“No,” Doumyoji replies brightly. “We all worked overnight so we could devote today to you!” 

Saruhiko takes a deep breath, struggling to keep his hands away from the sword at his side. 

_ Remember what Misaki always says,  _ he thinks.  _ I can’t make out with Misaki if I’m in prison. _

“Did you, now?” He says through gritted teeth, and Hidaka beams. 

“So? Given that you haven’t beheaded us all yet, should I assume that there’s good news…?” 

Telling himself it’s  _ just this once,  _ Saruhiko allows his colleagues a small smile. “He said yes.” 

Instantly, the room is in uproar. His colleagues start cheering all at once, high-fiving each other and practically lining up to ruffle his hair and pat his shoulders again. Hidaka even attempts a  _ hug _ . 

(Saruhiko sidesteps him in the nick of time, but it doesn’t make the whole experience any less traumatic.) 

“Yes. He said yes, that is a good thing, he is happy and I am happy, and that is also good, now get back to work, all of you.” 

Just as quickly as the calamity began, it halts, allowing a stunned silence to flood the area as the Alphabet Squad exchange awed, disbelieving glances. 

At length, Doumyoji ventures, “Did… did you just say you were  _ happy _ ?” 

“Tch.” Saruhiko abruptly turns away and moves to sit at his desk. “No.” 

Behind his back, he can practically feel the others exchanging small, fond smiles, but he lets it slide, just this once. 

The clock ticks by for a while, the only sound in the room other than the soft tapping of keyboards and PDA screens, and the gentle scratching of pens on paper, and Saruhiko lets the world fall away until there’s nothing around him but vast emptiness, a desk, and his computer. 

And then a beam of Blue shines into his emptiness. Saruhiko closes his eyes and holds back a groan. 

“Fushimi-kun.” 

Slowly, Saruhiko looks up to see Munakata standing in front of his desk with that all-knowing little smile on his face. 

“What do  _ you _ want.”

Munakata’s irritating smile only stretches. “I heard that you are engaged to Yata Misaki.” 

Saruhiko closes his eyes. “Yes. What about it?” 

“Ah, nothing. I just came to congratulate you, and wish you luck.” 

“Thanks,” Saruhiko mutters grudgingly, but Munakata is not done. 

“Also, should you require any help with the planning, I’d be happy to—”

“No.”

“And if you—”

“No.” 

“Very well, but if—”

“No.” 

 

.

 

“Everything should be red. Obviously.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit… tactless?” 

“What about Anna? She needs to be able to see everything.” 

“Yeah, like I said, make everything red!” 

“But…” 

“Well, what do you want us to do? Make it all  _ blue _ ?” 

“Oh, oh, I know! Let’s make it  _ purple _ !” 

“That’s perfect! That would be a union of Red and Blue…” 

“Huh. Makes sense. I mean, when you think about it, our vanguard is marrying their third-in-command… it’s sort of like a political marriage, but like, by  _ choice _ .” 

“Okay. So, purple, then. What flowers should we have?” 

“We could pick a few from the ones Fushimi-san gave Yata-san that one time.” 

“Hey, should we have long wooden benches, or chairs?” 

“If it’s indoors then benches, if it’s outdoors then chairs.” 

“Hm, okay.” 

What about streamers?”

“ _ Guys _ ,” Misaki groans from the couch, covering his face with his hands. “It’s  _ my  _ wedding.” 

His friends glance over, assessing him for a moment, and then their turn their backs on him and continue brainstorming over the mess of sketches and notes on the floor around them. 

“Oh!” Akagi sets his pencil down for a moment. “Who’s going to be the best man?” 

 

.

 

“Invitations. What should the invitations look like?” 

“White envelopes are standard.” 

“Ugh, Enomoto, that’s so  _ boring _ .”

“Fine. White… with decorations.” 

“We could have strands of red and blue weaving and intertwining and stuff all along the borders!” 

“Oh, and the writing should be in purple.” 

“Well, that’s a given.” 

“What about clothing? I mean, it’s obvious that the wedding color scheme will be mostly purple, so what should the people wear?” 

“We could do red and blue…” 

It’s a  _ wedding,  _ not a  _ battle _ . I say black and white.” 

“How’s  _ that _ any better?” 

“...” 

“Oh, and we have to have a best man. Obviously.” 

“Yata-san will definitely have a best man, you know how those Reds are. Are we allowed two best men?” 

“I think so…” 

“Oh, please let it be me…” 

“Keep dreaming, Hidaka. We all know it’ll be Akiyama, and that’s  _ only  _ if everyone pressures Fushimi-san to pick.” 

“Who’s going to walk down the aisle?” 

“Well… neither of them have fathers…” 

“Shh! We don’t speak of that!” 

“Right, right, sorry.” 

“It’ll be Fushimi-kun.” 

“Huh? Why’s that, Captain?” 

“I’m going to walk him down the aisle.” 

“Um… Captain, I don’t think—”

“I’m Captain he doesn’t have a choice.” 

 

.

 

“Hey, Kusanagi-san, your phone—oh, it’s Neko!”

“Pick up, pick up.” 

**“Hello? This is Shiro—ah, Weismann, speaking. Is this Kusanagi-san?”**

“No, this is Chitose, but you’re on speaker so he can hear you.” 

**“Ah.”** There is a pause, followed by some muted muttering.  **“Kuro heard from the Blues that Fushimi and Yata are getting married. Is that true?”**

“Yes! It is! Unbelievable, right?” 

The muted muttering resumes, followed by a lot of excited yelling.

**“I told you! Kuro, Kuro, I** **_told_ ** **you!”**

**“I told Kurosuke, too!”**

**“Yes, you did! Haha, you owe us each ten dollars now!”**

**“And lots of ultra-spicy rice crackers!”**

The line goes dead. Chitose grins. 

“Well. Looks like we’ll be getting more help.” 

Misaki screams internally.

 

.

 

Saruhiko and Misaki sit side by side on the couch in their apartment two days later, watching in defeated silence as their colleagues bustle around the flat, yelling out ideas and scribbling on whiteboards procured from thin air. The room is filled with Reds and Blues and Silvers and _Yukari_ , although no one is really sure how he found out or why he’s here. The other clans don’t much mind, though—the Green may be a massive diva, but he is quite excellent at party planning, taking charge and bossing everyone with flicks of his multicolored hair and gasps of _are you really planning to use_ that _carpet?_ and _please don’t tell me you actually think red roses are a good choice._

 

.

  
  


“Hey. Saru.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Somehow… I don’t think this is entirely  _ our  _ wedding anymore.” 


	2. The Maternal Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mom, let him breathe.”

“Misaki!” Misaki’s mom cries out when she opens the door, and Saruhiko flinches back as she wraps her son into her arms, only just stopping his eyes from darting away from the smiling face and searching for a way to escape. It’s not that he dislikes Misaki’s family, it’s just that they’re so loud and chaotic and… _protective_ , and it’s been a long time since he saw them last, due to _certain circumstances_ of which the redhead’s family _may or may not_ be aware. 

Misaki’s mother’s gaze shifts over her son’s shoulder and her mouth forms a perfect ‘o’, her eyes going wide as saucers as she gasps, “Saruhiko! It’s been so long!” She releases Misaki and flings her arms around the Blue, holding him so tightly he can barely breathe. 

(It’s not necessarily a  _ terrible  _ sensation, though.)

“Misaki said you joined some sort of government police force, hm?” She lets go and chuckles. “I’ve sat through a lot of rants in the past few years, believe me, and I’m  _ so _ glad you’ve patched things up again, but really, you should have visited sooner!” 

Saruhiko blinks. “I…” 

“ _ Mom,  _ let him  _ breathe _ ,” Misaki chides, taking his mother’s arm and leading her into the house. “C’mon, we have to talk.” 

The door swings shut as they wander in, and Saruhiko notes that nothing has changed since he last came here in middle school. Laughter from ahead snaps him out of his thoughts, and he sees Minoru and Megumi practically hanging off of Misaki’s neck; the Red is half on his knees, trying to hug them and shake them off at the same time. His siblings release him, and then Minoru turns his head and his whole face lights up. 

“Saru! You came back!” 

He darts over, with Megumi at his heels, both of them babbling excitedly about how much they missed him and how much Misaki talked about him and how they should kick his ass for making Misaki sad but they’ll let him off with a warning just this once. 

“Besides,” Megumi adds slyly, “you’re his  _ boyfriend  _ now, right? That makes you family, so we just have to forgive you.” 

“A-ah, right, about that,” Misaki interjects hurriedly, looking distinctly red. “That’s… what we came to talk about. Can we… sit down?” 

“Yes, of course, living room’s where it always was, so make yourselves at home.” Misaki’s mother ushers them further inside. “Do I need to send Minoru and Megumi out?” 

“No,” Misaki assures her, “they need to be here.” 

“Good,” Megumi huffs. “Last time you just  _ texted  _ Mom to say you were dating and we didn’t even get to find out until  _ she  _ told us.” 

“Aha, sorry about that,” Misaki mumbles sheepishly. “I was just scared…” 

“I forgive you,” Minoru says solemnly. “Megumi is very scary.” 

“Hey!” 

“A-anyway!” Misaki says loudly, speaking over the bickering of his siblings. “I have news! I mean— _ we  _ have news.” He glances at Saruhiko. “Uh… will you… say it with me?” 

“No, I’m enjoying watching you squirm.” 

“Wow. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“You’re an asshole.” 

“What does that make you?—you’re the one who agreed to marry me.” Saruhiko clamps his mouth shut as three gasps sound all at once. Misaki cringes. 

“Great job, genius…” 

The silence stretches—and, dammit, Saruhiko is really getting sick of these elastic silences—and then suddenly he’s being squished between Misaki and Misaki’s mother as she pulls them both into a tight, tearful hug. A sudden weight against his back indicates that one of Misaki’s siblings has joined in, while the other quickly clambers onto Misaki, refusing to be left out. Misaki’s mom is crying, and his siblings are squealing, and Misaki is laughing, and Saruhiko stays very still and very quiet, unsure of what to do with all this happiness around him. 

Finally, the group hug is broken, and Saruhiko mentally restrains himself from gasping for air as Misaki’s mom wipes away her tears and beams. 

“So, have you set a date?” 

“Um… no, not yet… we kind of told our friends about it and now they’re all fighting over when it should be.” 

“What about a venue?” 

“Same problem.” 

“Wedding style?”

“...They kind of took over everything.” 

Misaki’s mom stares for a moment, but recovers quickly. “Well, I’m glad you have such supportive friends. And you can never have too many party planners!” 

_ Damn,  _ Saruhiko thinks.  _ No wonder Misaki’s so optimistic.  _

And, just like that, the conversation in the room dissolves into  _ who proposed to whom  _ and  _ when _ and  _ how _ and  _ what do the rings look like _ and  _ who would’ve thought a bowl of pineapple soup for a sick friend could lead to this.  _

Saruhiko deems it wise not to mention his hatred for pineapple soup, but the chatter isn’t awful, and he soon finds himself drawn into the conversation, correcting Misaki’s facts often enough to quickly take over all the storytelling himself—although storytelling in their case is more like bickering over what  _ really  _ happened last Tuesday and who  _ actually  _ said what on Sunday morning before work.

When they say goodbye and begin the walk home, Misaki is smiling. 

Saruhiko is, too. 

 

.

 

“Saru, Saru, how do you spell this?”

“Hey, hey, Mom, hey, look, does this look pretty?” 

Saruhiko groans internally and lies back against the couch cushions, an uncapped blue gel pen dangling from his hand. Minoru, Megumi, and Misaki are sprawled out on their stomachs on the carpet, meticulously writing out invitations in metallic, silver calligraphy, and drawing weaving strands of Red and Blue all along the edges of the paper and the envelopes. 

The invitations aren’t necessary, of course—the people who will be receiving them are the same people who planned the entire wedding themselves, but they are also the same people who insisted on receiving invitations all the same. And so, here Saruhiko is, lying back on the couch with a complete stack of invitations to the Blues lying on the floor and the ink of a nearly-depleted blue pen staining his hands. 

“Done!” Misaki crows at last, sealing off an invitation to Kamamoto. “That’s everyone!”

“Hm, and in so little time.” Misaki’s mom kneels beside the pile, sifting through them, a smile dancing through her eyes when she looks at the envelope addressed to her own house. But when she sets the pile down, there is a small frown creasing her face. 

“Saruhiko… you aren’t inviting your mother?” 

Instantly, the room chills. Saruhiko stiffens. 

“No, I’m… not in touch with her. She wouldn’t want to come, and I wouldn’t want her there, either.” 

The look in those soft eyes is understanding, but sad. 

“I see.” She pauses. “I understand, really, I do. But, she  _ is _ your mother… so perhaps you should invite her, just in case. If you’re all right with it, of course. Because you really never know. If she doesn’t come, well, that’s fine. But if she does… you might have the chance to reconcile.” 

Saruhiko scoffs. "I doubt that." 

"Still. It can't hurt to try. Like an... experiment, if you want." She smiles at him. "Trust me, as a professional mother." 

Saruhiko stares at her in silence for a moment, and then picks up a piece of invitation paper and a silver pen and begins to write. 

  
  


.

  
  


"Is that all of them?" 

The group stands beside the post box, having deposited the letter inside. Saruhiko stands behind them, still holding on to a single envelope. 

"Saru?" Misaki's hand is on his arm. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Saruhiko takes a breath, and steps toward the post box. 

_ I can do this.  _

_ It's just an invitation.  _

_ She probably won't even RSVP.  _

His arm lifts, the shiny lettering on the envelope catching the light. 

_ Fushimi Kisa.  _

Slowly, so achingly slowly, the invitation approaches the slot. Saruhiko tries to keep his hand from trembling as he slips the envelope in and holds it there. 

He thinks about the empty halls of his childhood mansion. Thinks about the days he spent sick and feverish and alone and used to it. Thinks about all the times his classmates complained about their overbearing mothers and he resisted the urge to laugh and ask them what the  _ hell _ is a 'mom'. 

Slowly, he lets the envelope slip through his fingers. And it's gone. 

Saruhiko steps back and stares into that dark, dark mail slot, feeling his body begin to tremble. 

And then Misaki's arms are around his neck, and Misaki's mom's arms around his shoulders, and Megumi and Minoru each latch onto one of his arms, and no one says a word but the message is clear: 

The past doesn't matter. Kisa doesn't matter. Niki doesn't matter. The empty hall lined with meaningless photographs doesn't matter. Because, thanks to the Yata's, Saruhiko now has more than knives and burnt scars and bad memories. 

Saruhiko has a family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misaki's mom is the molly weasley of anime tbh 
> 
> and I guess Kisa is aunt petunia or smth
> 
> anyway this was fun and emotional and saru has a family now yay 
> 
> sorry I appear to have lost the ability to author's note 
> 
>  
> 
> I actually don't know that much about pre-wedding affairs, so... does anyone know what sort of stuff I need to write about before the wedding chapter?


	3. The Series of Unfortunate Wedding Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU NEED TO ASK HOLY SHIT JUST READ THE THING IM VERY HYPED ABOUT THIS

The room is bustling. Misaki peeks through the door and instantly backs away again, going paler even than Saruhiko as a pit forms in his stomach. 

“There are… so many… people…” 

“Obviously, Misaki,” Saruhiko mutters back. “You invited most of them.” 

“I didn’t realize it was so many!” Misaki swallows. “Okay… we should… we should go in.” 

Saruhiko grimaces. “Must we?” 

“Yeah! We have to meet everyone.” 

“I still don’t see why this is necessary. We could have just had the wedding and been done with it.” 

“I know,” Misaki groans, “but Kusanagi-san said that if we had a meeting party the night before, he could sell more drinks, so…” 

They both sigh. Really, once the older bartender made the request, there was no way they could have refused. 

“All right, then. Let’s go, Misaki.” And together, they step into the fire. 

 

.

 

“I still can’t believe this is happening, to be honest,” someone laughs; Saruhiko doesn’t know who, he stopped paying attention at the third person who made that comment. “I mean, you were so… but now you’re like… you know?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we know…” Misaki laughs for—is it the seventh time, now? 

Saruhiko just shrugs, eyes flitting around the room for an empty corner where he can sit in the shadows on his PDA for the rest of the night. 

And then he sees her. 

And the world comes crashing down. 

“Saru?” Misaki nudges his side, looking concerned. “What happened?” 

“She’s here,” the Blue whispers, and Misaki’s eyes go wide when he follows Saruhiko’s gaze. For a moment, they stand together in shocked silence, and then Misaki sets his jaw and takes ahold of Saruhiko’s arm, gently but firmly leading him over to the woman across the room. Her eyes lift from her PDA as they approach, and she gives a grim sort of half-smile. 

“Saruhiko,” comes the deadpan voice of Fushimi Kisa, “congratulations.” 

Saruhiko’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes wide and flickering, and Misaki takes charge. 

“You must be Saru’s mother. Welcome.” He gives her a smile, but his eyes are hard—this woman is, after all, part of the reason why his fiancee is so terribly broken. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you came.” 

Her eyes, dark and cold, flit down to his toes and then back up again. “Yata Misaki. We’ve met before.” 

“Once or twice, sure.” 

“Congratulations to you, too.” 

“Thanks.” Misaki shuffles a bit, feeling awkward and in dire need of something to punch. Saruhiko remains mute. “Um… we have a lot of people to meet, so…” 

“Yes. Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” And with that, Kisa turns away and resumes tapping at her phone. 

Misaki stares after her. “Wow. Your mom is really… something.” He glances up at his fiancee to see that Saruhiko is looking paler than ever, his breaths just slightly quicker than usual. “Hey.” Misaki wraps an arm around Saruhiko’s waist and pulls him closer. “You’re okay. Wanna get some air?” 

“...Yeah. Let’s do that.” 

So that’s what they do. 

 

.

 

“Ah… ah… this is so uncomfortable…”

“It’s just a suit.” 

“But… it’s so… ugh.” The redhead shuffles, picking at the fabric. “I feel so weird. I feel like it looks all wrong… like it’s made of paper and it’ll tear if I move.” 

Misaki’s mother laughs, reaching over to tweak her son’s collar. “Misaki. You’ll be fine. Stop fretting.” 

“How do you know?” Misaki mumbles, eyes dropping to his shiny black shoes. “Anything could go wrong… I might forget what to do or what my vows are, or I might trip… I’ve never even  _ seen  _ a Western-style wedding before…” 

“I  _ know _ ,” his mother says firmly, “because I am a  _ mother _ .” 

“Hm. Guess I can’t argue with that.” Misaki gives her a small, shy smile. “I… really love you, Mom. Thanks for… everything, really. You’ve always been so supportive and—” 

“Yes, yes,” Misaki’s mother huffs, blinking away tears. “You can be sappy to me later. Right now, there’s someone else waiting to be mushy-ed at, and it’s high time, too.” She sniffles and places her hands on his shoulders. “Now go. Get up on that altar and marry that boy before I grow old and die.” 

Misaki grins—a bright, radiant grin—and walks out of the door. 

His mother follows behind, fresh tears dripping down to rest against her upturned lips. 

“Honestly,” she whispers. “It really is about time.” 

 

.

 

Saruhiko studies himself critically in the mirror. His suit is black, like Misaki’s, but unlike Misaki’s, his is equipped with a harness full of knives. Just in case some daring guest chooses to play ‘Here Comes the Bride’ when he walks down the aisle. 

His eyes linger over his reflection’s stomach, and for a moment he wonders if the coil of barbed wire in there is visible through his clothes. 

“Fushimi-kun.” 

Saruhiko looks up, meeting his captain’s gaze in the mirror. Munakata smiles. 

“You look fine.” 

Saruhiko’s eyes drop to the floor. “Thanks,” he mutters grudgingly. 

“Are you ready?” 

_ I don’t know.  _

“I believe you’re ready,” Munakata continues, without pausing for his subordinate to answer. “I believe you’ve been ready for a very long time.” His smile turns into something more akin to a smirk. “And, should anything go wrong… well, I should think you’re quite… well-equipped, if I know you at all.” 

Saruhiko smiles and turns, sliding two knives out of his sleeves. “Of course.” 

Munakata clears his throat, and Saruhiko issues a silent plea:  _ please don’t make this any weirder than it already is.  _

But the captain only holds out his hand. “Shall we go, then?” 

The coil tightens. “I…” 

“Will be fine,” Munakata finishes for him, and his voice is softer than usual. “You will be perfect, because you are SCEPTER 4’s third-in-command, Fushimi Saruhiko, and you have yet to disappoint me.” There is a shine in his eyes. “I have great expectations of you, Fushimi-kun, particularly today. You’d do well not to let me down.” 

It’s not a conventional reassurance, but it is enough to slacken the coil in his stomach. Saruhiko squares his shoulders. 

“Yes, Captain.” 

 

.

 

The doors open, and all chatter goes quiet. Misaki turns, watching from beside the man officiating their wedding as Munakata and Saruhiko appear in the doorway. Music swells as they walk—not ‘Here Comes the Bride’, to Misaki’s relief, he  _ really  _ wasn’t keen on cleaning up bloodstains after the ceremony—and Misaki nearly forgets to breathe as his fiancee comes closer and closer. And then Munakata is stepping back, and Saruhiko is climbing up the steps to stand opposite Misaki, and the redhead takes a moment to gloat that the Blue looks just as nervous as he is. 

“We are gathered here today,” the priest begins, but Misaki spaces out immediately because apparently couples hold hands throughout the preaching, and  _ why _ did nobody inform him of this  _ extremely important detail _ ? 

 

.

 

Saruhiko wants to smirk at Misaki’s discomfort, but he’s just a tad bit too busy trying not to collapse on the spot. Tuning out the priest’s droning, he glances out over the audience, taking in his colleagues and Misaki’s, his captain, his… mother, sitting in a chair at the back and watching him with a mildly interesting look on her face. 

_ What does she think,  _ he wonders,  _ of seeing her son getting married, after all these years? _

And then he is there. Leaning on the bench with a smirk on his face and a monkey puppet on his right hand. 

_ Hey, my little Saru,  _ his dancing eyes whisper.  _ Look at you, setting yourself up for the quickest divorce in marriage history~ _

Saruhiko grits his teeth, feeling the air leave his lungs, but he feels warm hands squeezing his own, and he drags his gaze away from Niki’s taunting eyes to look into Misaki’s soft ones. 

The priest is still rambling. 

Saruhiko tips his head to the side and sighs. 

“Okay, I’m bored.” 

The priest shuts up, staring at him with wide, scandalized eyes. 

“As much as it pains me to admit this,” Misaki responds, “I agree with Saru. Can we get to the vowing bit, already?” 

The priest sputters for a moment, and then sighs. “Very well. I see you wrote your own vows. Which one of you would like to begin?”

“U-um,” Misaki says, “I… want to start.”

 

.

 

“Saruhiko,” Misaki begins, his voice just slightly trembling, “you know already that I love you so, so much. More than you fucking deserve, you fucking assbucket.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the room. The priest shuffles slightly, his brows creased in confusion.

“But,” Misaki continues, “as shitty a person as you are—and, believe me, you’re one of the absolute  _ worst  _ people I’ve ever met—you make me really, stupidly happy.” He pauses, considering. “Actually, now that I think about it, you also make me frustrated and pissed off and  _ really  _ fed up, but for some reason I forget all that every time I wake up and you’re there, beside me.”

A chorus of  _ aww _ s. 

“And… I know we’ve had our… um…  _ problems _ . I can say with certainty that, as happy as I was being with you, being without you hurt me a thousand times more.” Misaki bites his lip, looking down, and steels himself to complete the speech. “That’s how I know that this is… this is what I want. I want to be with you for the rest of forever, because I’ve learnt the hard way that it’s the only way I can be completely happy, or complete at all. So, I guess, that’s my vow… that I’ll definitely stay with you forever and ever, and there’s nothing you can do now to get rid of me. I’ll be with you in… in sickness and in health and all that shit—although probably mostly sickness, since you have the world’s shittest diet and you don’t get enough sleep.” Misaki cuts himself off, feeling the tips of his ears heating up, and he coughs, forcing himself to look the other in the eye. “So just—fucking—say you will, too, you stupid fucking Monkey.” 

Saruhiko smiles. His lips move.

_ I will. _

 

.

 

The priest, visibly shaken, turns to Saruhiko. 

“You may recite your… vows.” The word is said tentatively, with clear hesitation. That poor, lost man.

Misaki stands a little straighter, eyes alight with interest, and Saruhiko feels the weight of every molecule in the air pressing down on him. 

He takes a breath. 

 

.

 

“Misaki, I… don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I almost never do. This is unfortunate, because you’re the biggest idiot I know, and you never understand things unless they’re spelled out for you, which is quite inconvenient.” 

The priest looks pained. 

“But, even so… you’ve always stuck by me. Even though it’s difficult—and yes, I do know that I’m difficult—you’ve never given up. Even when I did everything I could to make you hate me, you wouldn’t let go. That’s just the kind of stubborn moron you are.” 

Misaki smirks.  _ Damn right.  _

“I hated that about you… before. But now I’m… grateful. Because you… make me happy, too, and I never dreamed I could be. I thought that things like happiness and love were ephemeral, that no matter how hard you tried, you could never hold onto them. But I guess no one ever told you that. To me, you were able to accomplish the impossible through the power of sheer stupidity, and I guess I admire you for that.” He pauses. “And I… want to hold on, too. What we have now… I don’t want it to be fleeting. That’s why I’ll also… stay with you forever, through whatever we may face, good or bad. Because you’re an idiot, and you couldn’t hope to survive on your own, and… I love you, too—and don’t you  _ fucking _ cry, Misaki, I swear to—”

“I’m not crying!” Misaki protests indignantly, yanking his hands out of Saruhiko’s to swipe aggressively at his eyes. “Shut up, stupid Monkey!”

“T-that… that should conclude the vows,” the priest interjects hurriedly. “If you would now exchange rings…” His whole body seems to sag, face softening in relief, when Misaki and Saruhiko halt their bickering and turn to pick up the rings—two simple, silver bands. 

The silence in the room is palpable as Saruhiko takes Misaki’s hand again and carefully slides the ring on. Misaki doesn’t seem to be breathing. Saruhiko certainly isn’t. Misaki takes the second ring and reciprocates the gesture, and Saruhiko can feel the engraving on the inner side of the metal, rough against his skin.

_ In aeternum.  _

Forever. 

 

.

 

The priest coughs. “You may now kiss,” he states, sounding more confident because there’s no way these two can possibly mess up something as simple as a kiss. 

Saruhiko smirks. 

“Oi. Saru.” Misaki lifts a hand, beckoning him to lean down, and Saruhiko does not move, instead very pointedly tilting his head up. 

Misaki growls. “Don’t you fucking make me do this, Saruhiko.”

Saruhiko just continues to smirk. Misaki scowls. 

With eyes dark as storm clouds, he slowly rises up until he’s standing on his toes, practically trembling from the effort, and Saruhiko has the good grace to tilt his head down to meet the Red in a kiss. It is a very brief one, however, as Misaki almost immediately drops back down, glaring daggers at the Blue. 

“I fucking hate you,” he snaps, arms crossed. 

Saruhiko laughs—really, genuinely laughs—and leans down to kiss the irritation off Misaki’s face, properly this time.

 

.

 

They lie in bed later that night, curled up together and exhausted from all the congratulating and shoulder-patting and hair-ruffling and hugging that took place during the after-party. Their breaths fall in synch, shifting the air as silver moonlight glints off the matching metal on their intertwined fingers.

 

.

  
They are smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooo that was fun 
> 
> fuckin kisa tho   
> and ofc kusanagi takes advantage of the opportunity to promote his bar xD
> 
>  
> 
> BUT THE VOWS I SWEAR THAT WAS REALLY DIFFICULT   
> I mean, for Misaki's vows to Saru... well, those came pretty easily to me. But then when I was writing Saru's vows to Misaki I kept deleting and rewriting and staring blankly at the screen. It was really hard! I guess that makes sense, though, since it would be pretty hard for Saru to figure out what to say. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, this concludes the Marriage Trials.... and now we shall revert back to household trials, which may or may not continue until the day I die. ^-^
> 
> Thanks, again, for following this story all the way up to their marriage, and I hope you enjoy the drabbles to come~  
> Thanks to everyone who commented... you guys really make my day, and so please, please do comment on this chapter as well if you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> HERE WE GO 
> 
> Ahahaha and to think I was actually planning on ending this with the proposal. 
> 
>  
> 
> Pfft, poor Sarumi....but for real though, Munakata is totally getting his wish.
> 
> Oh hey fun story, I told my mom about this and she got me to read them all to her over a few afternoons (she's basically beta-ing for me) and yesterday we marathoned the first season of K and she loves it bUT SHE KEEPS FORGETTING WHO'S WHO like we were on the first real Saruhiko/Misaki confrontation at the school and Saru's doing his "Mi~sa~ki" thing and she turns to me all confused like "where's Misaki I don't see him" because we were like 6 episodes in and sHE DIDNT KNOW WHO MISAKI WAS WTF  
> And she was confused since they """hate""" each other and I kept saying yOu dOnT unDersTAnD


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